


twelve feet deep

by jumpforjo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpforjo/pseuds/jumpforjo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>25. "we can never be together" kiss</p>
            </blockquote>





	twelve feet deep

_‘cause you are water twelve feet deep_

_and i am boots made of concrete_

* * *

 

Varric has always been thrown off by the way Fenris and Anders toe the line between absolute, unrivaled hatred and a strength of ideals that almost brings them together. At the heart of it, really, they agree. Both against abuse of magic and the use of blood magic, both fighting oppression and oppressive systems, both willing to lay their lives down for Hawke. It makes them fun to write, in his opinion.

At the Hanged Man they either sit at opposite ends of the table or entirely too close. Sometimes Fenris almost sounds fond when he calls Anders an abomination, as if it was a blown over wound, an old joke between friends. Most of the time, though, it’s said with an intentional bite and Anders’ eyes harden. It’s almost sad, the way he almost seeks Fenris’ approval. As if he knows they could be on the same side, they could almost fight for the same exact thing. Almost. 

While writing, Varric is torn on how to portray them. The truth is almost too harsh, but for some reason he can’t seem to bring himself to turn them into an egregious stereotypes. And on one of the nights he’s pondering this exact issue, he stumbles upon them in his room in the Hanged Man. 

They’re facing each other, standing close, and Fenris has his eyes glued to the floor while Anders’ search his face. He stays just back, just out of view. 

“I don’t understand! I don’t get it, what do you want from me?” Anders is frustrated and his hands tug on his own hair. 

“This doesn’t work. Never going to. I don’t know why I asked you to speak to me. I’m sorry.” Fenris’ eyes look utterly devoid of, well, anything. His hands are trembling. “We’re sinking ships. The both of us. All we can do is destruct those around us, especially each other.”

“Bullshit! If anyone gets your plight, I do! Hawke isn’t going to fucking save you, Fenris.” There’s a defensive venom about the way Anders grips Fenris’ shoulders and the elf starts and looks right up into Anders eyes. As soon as the surprise passes, his brows draw in severely.

“What, and you are?” Fenris snarls, backing up a step. Anders matches the step, maintaining their proximity.

“No! No one is.” For an avid writer of a manifesto, Varric notes, Anders doesn’t seem very good at getting his point across. The dwarf would feel invasive if they weren’t having this exchange in his own maker-damned room.

“Good.” Fernis’ guard is up, Varric can see it in his eyes, and Anders groans in frustration. He moves his hands from shoulders and doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself and Fenris watches him carefully. 

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t get where to go from here!” Their eyes connect and Fenris’ guard visibly drops. In this moment, Varric can tell how small he is, his head barely reaching Anders’ shoulder. The poor elf doesn’t even have a typical warrior build, mostly lithe muscle, barely bulkier than the scrawny mage in front of him. 

Then, Anders ducks down and captures Fenris’ lips with his own. Varric makes a mental not that Isabela and Hawke owe him 5 gold. 

Fenris doesn’t push him away, the kiss fades and their foreheads remain pressed into each other. “I can’t do this.” Fenris’ voice is soft as he takes another step back from Anders. This time neither of them close the space. After a beat Fenris lets out a bated breath. He looks as if he’s about to speak but instead shakes his head. “Let’s never speak of this again.” And then he leaves. Varric has just enough time to slide into a table of regulars as if he’d been there the whole time. Fenris doesn’t even notice him.

Ten minutes later, Anders leaves too, looking fully composed. He walks past Varric with carefully measured steps. Something about the encounter makes Varric decide that maybe, just maybe, he should leave it out of the books. It’s very rare that something feels to private to be revealed by him, but Varric can hear “Let’s never speak  of this again,” in the back of his head and he can see the way Hawke looks at Fenris. Maybe some secrets are best kept that way. 

**Author's Note:**

> unedited and all that jazz, just wanted to post it separately!  
> hmu at jumpforjo on tumblr (and feel free to always send me prompts!)


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